Lapse
by Clara A. Rose
Summary: In which Arthur gets stabbed and Merlin makes use of the phrase, "A life for a life." Probably very predictable. Lots of angst. Two-shot. Reveal-fic. Warning: Character death. (Gee, I wonder who. . .) No slash. Please read! I don't own Merlin, unfortunately.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hey, guys! This is just a stupid thing I thought of but I had to write it down. It's probably set. . . Late third season, early fourth season? I really don't know. Wherever it fits in. So. . . Read it, please! No slash. Character death. Two-shot, probably. I think it's maybe a teeny bit longer than what I usually write.**

Arthur grunted once, then his sword flashed up instinctively and the man was dead. Good. That was. . . good riddance. Arthur sank to his knees, one hand on his stomach. It came away red. Arthur gritted his teeth and wrapped his fingers around the knife hilt in his stomach. It hurt like hell, but the pain eased a bit once the knife was out.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. This was it, then. His death. Arthur remembered that dying people were generally supposed to look back and realize your own mortality. Arthur reflected on his life and decided that he could have done with a couple fewer near death experiences. Still, at least he was prepared for the real thing.

The battle was ending. Well, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn't quite a battle. Merlin and himself fighting a couple people in the woods was just an ordinary day. And Arthur had killed all but one of them, so it wasn't like Merlin had actually done anything.

Merlin turned and saw Arthur. Even with Arthur's eyesight- the world had gone a bit hazy- he could see Merlin's panicked expression. Arthur felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend- if their positions had been reversed. . . Well, he didn't even want to think about that.

Arthur leaned back against the tree that seemed to be conveniently behind him. No, wait. . . He was looking at the sky, so he must be on the ground. When had he gotten there?

Then Merlin's head blocked out part of the sky. Arthur almost wanted to snap at him, because the sky was a very nice color, and he never got time to just look these days. But he was feeling a bit too tired to snap at anyone. Which was odd, because usually being tired just made Arthur grumpy.

Also. . . Merlin seemed to be crying. Arthur thought vaguely that for someone who spent so much time insulting him, he did seem to be upset at his death.

Merlin seemed to be saying something Arthur didn't quite catch. He repeated it, and this time Arthur got it. Merlin had whispered, "I'm sorry."

Arthur was a bit confused. What was Merlin sorry for? That Arthur was dying? But that wasn't his fault at all. If anything, it was Arthur's own fault for being a bit slow getting out of the knife's way. Merlin shouldn't blame himself.

Merlin laid a slim hand on Arthur's forehead. It felt pleasantly cool. Arthur saw Merlin murmur something, his eyes flash gold- though that was probably a hallucination- and felt a strange, though not unpleasant tingling sensation somewhere around where he had gotten stabbed. Then everything went black.

* * *

Arthur yawned. This in itself was surprising, as Arthur had fully expected to be dead. Hmm. That was an interesting thought. Can you yawn when you're dead? Never mind. He would think on that later. After he had figured out what on earth had happened.

He stood up. This was puzzling. Arthur put a hand to the place where he had been injured what felt like only minutes before. There was nothing. No wound, no blood, only the normal healthy skin. Arthur wondered what had happened.

He remembered something else. Merlin had been there. Where was he now? Arthur yelled, "_Merlin!"_

"No need to shout." said Merlin, from behind him. Arthur spun around. Merlin was standing in the shadow of a tree, almost completely obscured. Arthur could see how he'd missed him the first time.

"What happened?" demanded Arthur. "I was dying. I was nearly dead. How am I alive now?"

"Are you complaining?" asked Merlin.

"No." said Arthur. "I'm just wondering." He saw Merlin shift slightly, then wince. Arthur frowned. "You aren't hurt, are you? I know there was only one left, but you're the most accident-prone person I know."

"Apparently," said Merlin, with a small grin, "You haven't met yourself."

Arthur tried to glare at him, but he was too relieved to not be dead to quite manage it. So it was more of a smile. Oh, well. It didn't occur to him that Merlin hadn't answered the question.

"So." said Arthur. "Are you going to tell me how I survived?"

"I suppose." said Merlin, glancing at the sky. "We're running out of time."

"Running out of time for what?" asked Arthur.

Merlin ignored him. "Arthur, I'm going to tell you something. You aren't going to like it. But before I do, I want you to promise me that you won't punish my mother for it. Or Gaius. Or any of my friends."

Arthur blinked. "Merlin, almost all your friends are my friends too."

"Promise me." said Merlin.

What could possibly be so bad that Merlin was making him promise not to hurt his friends? And why was Merlin acting like there was a time limit? Reluctantly, Arthur promised, if only out of curiosity.

"Merlin, what can possibly-"

Merlin cut him off, but Arthur forgot that, because Merlin's next words took his breath away. "I'm a warlock." said Merlin, almost matter-of-factly.

"What?" gasped Arthur. "How? What?"

"It's not my fault." said Merlin quickly. "I was born with it."

"But. . . that's impossible." Arthur's mind was almost completely blank. The betrayal of one's closest friend can do that to a person.

"Obviously, it's not." said Merlin, "Because I'm here. The most powerful sorcerer ever." Merlin's tone, when he said the words 'most powerful' was wavering somewhere between embarrassment, uncertainty, and apology.

The bit of Uther that Arthur inherited was screaming for him to draw his sword and kill Merlin then and there. Luckily, Arthur had had plenty of practice ignoring his father.

The thing was that if Merlin had always been a sorcerer. . . then he had always been evil. Or he wasn't, and had never been evil. But. . . that couldn't be right. Sorcerers were evil, right? Right? But the words _Merlin_ and _evil_ shouldn't belong in the same paragraph, let alone next to each other. Merlin simply wasn't evil. That was a fact of life. Therefore, not all magical people were evil.

The only thing Arthur could think to ask was, "Why didn't you tell me?" He was going for demanding, but it came out closer to lost.

Merlin looked torn. "I wanted to, Arthur, I really did, I just. . . it never seemed like a good time."

"So. . ." said Arthur, "Why are you telling me now?" _Why couldn't you have kept quiet? Why couldn't we have gone on the way we always have? Why do things have to change now?_

Merlin closed his eyes, as if he was unable to look at Arthur. He looked pained. "Because. . . this is just a lapse." He looked up at Arthur, and unless Arthur was mistaken, he had tears in his eyes. "A mistake. A small mercy."

"A lapse?" Arthur was confused. "What do you mean?"

"

I mean. . . I'm running out of time." He tried to take a step forward, but he gasped in sudden pain, pushing a hand to his stomach and falling to one knee.

"Merlin?" Arthur stepped forward, ready to help. Sorcerer or not, Merlin was his friend. "What's wrong, what's going on?"

Merlin was down on both knees now, one hand supporting him, the other pressed to his stomach. His breath was coming only in small gasps. But he waved Arthur off. "I- I- I'm fine."

"You're not, though." said Arthur, "What happened?"

Merlin glanced up at Arthur. "Ever heard the saying, 'A life for a life?'"

"I suppose so." Though the phrase did indeed seem very familiar, this seemed a rather trivial thing for Merlin to be asking about at a time like this. "Why?"

"Arthur, I told you, this-" He waved a hand around them. "- this time is a lapse. Soon- really soon- things will go back to the way they're meant to be."

Arthur was growing frustrated. "Merlin, just tell me, were you injured?"

"No." said Merlin, though he still wasn't getting up. "But you were."

"What?"

"Despite what you may think, destiny isn't a picky thing, Arthur." said Merlin. When Arthur still looked baffled, he said, "You might say you were destined to die here."

Arthur frowned. "So when you say things will go back to how they're meant to be. . . I'll die?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. You won't. You see, you were destined to die here. Except you weren't. All destiny really cares about is that one of us dies. The other can live. Originally, the dying one would have been you. But. . . Well, let's say I made use of the saying 'A life for a life.' Apparently, the life of a very powerful sorcerer is-" He broke off, curling into himself in pain. Arthur could barely hear his next words. "- is just enough to buy back the life of a king."

Arthur paled. "Merlin," he whispered, "Please, tell me, what did you do?" Even though he was fairly certain he didn't want to hear the answer.

"I just told you." muttered Merlin, who was now flat on his back, chest heaving. And as Arthur watched, a drop of blood appeared on Merlin's shirt.

**Dun dun DUN! Tell me what you think! If you want more, review!**

**If you think this is a crime against life of any kind, because it's horrible, review!**

**Basically: Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, I'm back to continue my story! Warning: There is lots of angst. With a little angst on the side. With angst as a topping. And for desert, just for a change: Angst!**

**Enjoy!**

**Previously, on Lapse:**

_Arthur paled. "Merlin," he whispered, "Please, tell me, what did you do?" Even though he was fairly certain he didn't want to hear the answer._

_"__I just told you." muttered Merlin, who was now flat on his back, chest heaving. And as Arthur watched, a drop of blood appeared on Merlin's shirt._

**Now:**

Arthur stared at it for a second, shocked, then pushed Merlin's shirt out of the way to look at the wound. Once he saw it, his heart sank. Probably from a dagger or a knife. . . and almost definitely fatal. If Gaius had been here, Merlin might have had a sliver of a chance. But they were hours away from any sort of help, let alone the royal physician.

Then Arthur saw something that made about as much sense as anything else today. The wound- it was getting bigger. Arthur checked again. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him. It was actually getting bigger. That didn't make sense either.

Merlin saw his expression. "It's getting bigger, isn't it?"

"How?" was the only thing Arthur could manage.

"I-" Merlin's voice faded a bit, and he sighed and started to close his eyes.

"No!" yelled Arthur, "Merlin, stay awake!"

With what seemed a great effort, Merlin dragged himself back to consciousness. "Sorry." he whispered.

"If you're such a powerful sorcerer," said Arthur, grasping at straws, "Can't you heal yourself?"

Merlin blew out a breath. Even that seemed to cause him pain. "I can't." he said, "I'm meant to die, Arthur. Even I can't escape destiny. If I purposely tried to heal myself, it wouldn't work." He glanced up at Arthur, lips twitching in what could almost be described as a smile. "But it's nice of you to forgive me."

"S-stop." said Arthur. He'd intended to sound authoritative, but it only sounded like he was begging. "Stop it, you aren't going to die."

"Hmph." mumbled Merlin, "Prince Arthur, able to deny the obvious even when it's right in front of his eyes, bleeding to death."

"You're not going to die! I forbid it!" Arthur said heatedly.

"I never could obey an order," Merlin murmured.

"Stop." said Arthur. "Please, Merlin."

He hadn't expected Merlin to obey. He probably would have felt better if he hadn't. Then, at least Arthur would have been able to pretend, at least to himself, that things were going to be fine, things were normal, and Merlin was disregarding his orders. But things weren't normal, and they wouldn't ever be again.

This couldn't be happening. Merlin couldn't be a sorcerer , he couldn't be dying. Maybe this was all a hallucination. Maybe he would wake up in a few minutes back in his bed in Camelot. Because the truth of it was that Arthur really couldn't imagine a world without Merlin. He was just such a big part of his life. They saw each other almost every minute of every day. Merlin was like the brother he never had, and would have made a much better sibling than the sister he did have.

"I'm sorry." said Merlin softly, "I'm sorry I never told you about my magic."

"It doesn't matter." said Arthur fiercely. He gripped his friend's hand tightly and shifted so he was half propping Merlin up. "Merlin, I swear, that doesn't matter."

"That's kind of you." muttered Merlin.

"This doesn't make sense." said Arthur. "A wound this size, you should already be. . ." He let his voice trail away. He didn't really want to finish that sentence.

"Dead." agreed Merlin. "See, because I'm dying, and I'm supposed to die, but my magic doesn't know that. It's going to. . . to try and keep me alive for as long as possible. Basically, all that means for me. . . is a slow, painful death."

Merlin's tone was matter-of-fact, but Arthur thought he could hear an undercurrent of something else, maybe fear, or perhaps just exhaustion.

Arthur closed his eyes. "Why?" he whispered. Then he sighed. "Never mind, don't answer that. I know why."

"Mmm?" asked Merlin.

"Because. . ." He swallowed, the words hard to get out. "Because I would probably do the same for you."

Merlin just nodded. It wasn't like there was anything to say to that. He knew it was true, and he knew Arthur meant it. Merlin knew Arthur knew he knew. So no words were needed.

"Merlin," said Arthur, "I know- I know you're- you know- but is there anything I can do?"

"Yes." said Merlin. "Please, just-" He broke off in a fit of coughs that wracked his thin body. When they subsided, Merlin, breathing hard, whispered hoarsely, "Please just stay. I- I don't want to be alone."

Arthur felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." he promised. "I'm staying right here, Merlin."

Merlin nodded again. He didn't say anything, but his relief was obvious.

Arthur's chest ached in sympathy and sorrow. Merlin was not a big man. He was twenty-one, but at that moment, with his eyes half-closed, sprawled on the forest floor, pale as death, skinny as ever, he probably could have passed for sixteen. His dark hair was rumpled, like it always was. The left half of his torso was covered with blood.

For a couple minutes, Merlin seemed to be somewhere between conscious and asleep. Arthur wasn't sure which way he wanted Merlin to go. If there was a chance Merlin could live, Merlin would just have to grit his teeth and bear the pain, but as it was. . . Well, Arthur wasn't sure that it wasn't better for Merlin to go while he wasn't in pain, while he was unconscious.

Arthur wished with all his heart that he didn't have to think thought like that. He wished he could go back in time, to half an hour ago, when Merlin had still been alternating between complaints and laughs- Was it really that long? If felt like forever.- and make sure they never, never came near this clearing.

"Please," begged Arthur. He wasn't even attempting to stop his flow of tears now. "Please, Merlin, you can't go. You said you didn't want to be alone. Well, what about me? What am I supposed to do? Just go on living my life?"

"Exactly." murmured Merlin. Arthur wasn't sure how lucid he was, but he listened anyway. "That's exactly what you do, Arthur." repeated Merlin, quietly, "There's nothing else you can do. It's what we all do. We go on living. That's the way it works."

Arthur wanted to yell, he wanted to scream. He wanted to stomp his foot. Merlin must have seen that in his expression, because he said, "Poor Prince Arthur. So used to getting his own way." He coughed again, but it sounded weak and small. Possibly the ugliest sound Arthur had heard in his life.

It started to rain. A cold, slow, drizzle that perfectly reflected how Arthur felt. "I like rain," Merlin mumbled vaguely.

Merlin's chest was hardly moving at all now. Arthur didn't need to check his pulse to see that his heartbeat was slowing. Merlin was fading.

"I'm sorry." sighed Merlin. "I'm sorry I kept my magic secret for so long. Can you forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive." said Arthur automatically.

"Thank you." said Merlin.

Arthur shook his head emphatically. "Stop. Don't say that. It's my fault you're-" The word _dying_ stuck in throat.

Merlin sighed. "It's really not."

Arthur didn't argue, but he disagreed. "I just- I just- Thank you, Merlin. Thank you for everything."

A slight smile flitted across Merlin's features. "You're welcome, you absolute prat." He was breathing hard again, as if it were a struggle. His eyes started to drift closed.

"No!" yelled Arthur, "Please, Merlin, stay awake!"

Merlin's eyes reluctantly, "I can't." he whispered. "I just. . . I just. . ." His eyes started to close again.

Much as Arthur wanted to, he didn't stop him. Merlin dragged in a breath. A moment, passed, then he forced in another. Arthur was sure that though he was trying to hide it, just breathing hurt.

A couple minutes passed with Arthur just sitting there, listening to the sound of Merlin breathing in and out. He realized he was still holding Merlin's hand. But he didn't let go.

He listened, until there was nothing to listen to. Merlin's breaths got shorter and shorter, and fainter and fainter until they stopped. For the rest of his life, Arthur would remember that moment, the moment Merlin ended, because that was the moment that his world shattered to pieces. Prince Arthur had thought he was strong, and he was. But when it came to his friend, he was as breakable as a fragile sliver of glass.

Merlin's body and his magic had done the best to keep him alive, but it hadn't worked. Arthur stopped, hoping that he was wrong, that Merlin had been wrong, that destiny was wrong. But it wasn't.

Arthur gently released his friend's hand and settled him on the grassy, leaf-strewn earth. And then he let himself shout, he let himself yell, he let himself scream. That it wasn't fair, that Merlin had never done anything to deserve this. At the end of it, Arthur was left bent over panting, tears on his cheeks.

But that didn't change the fact that Merlin was gone.

**Was that ****_too_**** melodramatic?**

**Okay, I know I said this would be a two-shot. . . But I'm seriously considering continuing. What do you guys think? Think I should stop now? Review, and tell me, yes or no!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yes! I finally finished it! Well, the chapter. The story is far from over. I hope. This chapter was basically made to fill up the space between the last chapter and the next one. This chapter's a bit short. I'm sorry I took so long to update... **

"A-a-a-a-arthur!" The rather merry shout cut through Arthur's haze of grief. But he didn't move.

"_A-a-a-a-arthur!" _It came again, but more of a yodel. This time, Arthur recognized the voice. He wanted to. . . Well, he didn't really want to do anything in particular. Maybe he could just sit here for the rest of his sorry life. The only person who would have truly minded was Merlin, and he was. . . Arthur resisted the urge to look down at the body beside him.

"A-a-a-a-arthur!" The voice came once again, distinctly closer this time. There was a pause, and then that was followed by, "Come on, you lazy bum! I know you're here somewhere! Your father's sent me to bring you back so he can give you a severe scolding about not being late coming back from hunting trips. And as scary as that is, we both know I never would've gone if he hadn't threatened me. So please, princess, I would really rather not get thrown in the stocks."

The voice was close, really close. Any second now. . . Arthur gathered all his remaining willpower and used it to get to his feet.

Gwaine rode into the clearing. "Of course," he finished, "I probably don't have to worry about that, eh? You've probably booked them for Merlin this. . . week. . ." His voice trailed off as he saw Arthur. "Gods, mate, what happened to you?"

Arthur looked down and vaguely realized he was covered in blood. "It's not my blood." he said distantly.

Gwaine frowned and slipped off his horse. "Must have been a lot of bandits, then. Where's Mer-" He started to peer around the clearing.

Arthur looked away. He couldn't watch Gwaine's face when he found out. It would be like losing Merlin a second time.

"Oh." said Gwaine. It was the quietest sound he had ever heard Gwaine make. He crossed the clearing in two long strides and knelt by Merlin. Though Arthur still wasn't looking at him, he could feel the fire in Gwaine's gaze when he turned to him.

When he spoke, it was only one word, spoken it what can only be described as a growl. "_Who?"_

Arthur pointed to the other side of the clearing, to where the bodies of the men who had attacked them lay. "There." he said hoarsely. "I killed the man who did it. But. . ."

Gwaine stood faster than Arthur would have thought possible. "But _what?"_ he dangerously.

Arthur swallowed. "It- it wasn't Merlin he stabbed. It was me."

Gwaine glanced between the two men. Merlin, on the ground, with a stab wound, unmistakably dead, and Arthur, looking grieved and lost, but standing, uninjured, tired but definitely alive. "Then how. . . ?"

"Magic." But Arthur said it without the usual spite. "Merlin had magic."

Gwaine's eyes widened, but then he nodded. "Of course he did."

"What do you mean? That doesn't surprise you?" The words came out of Arthur's mouth almost without his permission. He didn't want to talk. It wasn't fair to, when Merlin couldn't.

Gwaine chuckled bitterly. "Arthur, the best friend I ever had died today. Nothing could surprise me."

Arthur closed his mouth and nodded.

Gwaine went on, in the same harsh tone. "So what if he had magic? It would fit, anyway, how you always attracted trouble but always escaped perfectly fine. And remember that time with the trident? You, me, and him? Courage, Strength, and Magic. I bet he saved your life more times than you can count, and you know what you never did? You never thanked him."

"I did." said Arthur, "I did, before he. . ." He trailed into silence again.

"It's not enough!" spat Gwaine. Then in a quieter, almost broken tone, "It's not enough."

Arthur closed his eyes. He felt tiny, insignificant, ignorant. Gwaine was right. It wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

"We should bring him back to Camelot." said Gwaine. "Let's go." He knelt beside Merlin, wrapped an arm around him, and hoisted him up onto his horse. He started to get up behind Merlin, but stopped, and made a mocking bow in Arthur's direction. "Unless His Highness would rather ride." he said sourly.

Arthur looked at his feet. "No, you go. I'll. . . I'll walk."

Gwaine gave a reluctant nod, as though he had been wishing for Arthur to give him something he could hate him for. Without looking at him, Arthur could feel the hostility radiating off Gwaine in waves. Although, out of something- probably a desire for Uther to not execute him- Gwaine rode at a walking pace, slow enough for Arthur to keep up. Barely.

* * *

Arthur was, in a way, grateful for the jogging he had to do to keep up to Gwaine's horse. It meant he had something to concentrate on besides the prospect of living without his best friend. He'd had friends die before- well, more like acquaintances, he hadn't known any of them particularly well. But the point was that he'd seen death before.

But Merlin was different. Now he thought of it, Merlin was different in almost every way. More loyal than the friends who abandoned him once he had stopped being cruel. Kinder than his father. Braver than the servants Arthur'd had before- they had all been scared to death of him, with good reason.

It was because of Merlin that he'd grown up, stopped bullying servants. Merlin- unlike any servant, ever, as far as Arthur knew- had steadfastly followed him to every battle, come with him on every hunt, no matter how much he detested it, or how much he complained.

_And look where that got him, _thought Arthur sourly.

Now he thought on it, though, Gwaine was right; Merlin having magic made a lot of sense. Now he knew, Arthur wondered how on earth he'd missed it, or how Merlin had possibly managed to hide it for almost four years. Arthur kept waiting to be furious at Merlin for hiding it, or for being a magician, but he couldn't quite manage it. His anger was completely eclipsed by guilt and loss.

Arthur kicked at a rock. He was a horrible person. His best- and probably _only_ now- had just sacrificed himself to save Arthur's sorry life. He was a terrible person. He was a-

"We're nearly there." interrupted Gwaine. "We're nearly to Camelot." He glanced down at Arthur with what might have been pity, or contempt. Then he kicked the horse and started to gallop to the castle, leaving Arthur alone to trudge through the weeds and mud, under the dreary gray sky, back to Camelot.

**Was Gwaine a bit OOC? Whatever. Tell me what you thought! I live for the reviews! Keep 'em comin', people!**


	4. Chapter 4

**More angst. I'm getting to the good bit, I swear, soon. Just bear with me, here. Be patient. This one's a bit short.**

"No," whispered Gaius, as Gwaine approached. "No, no, _no!" _

Gwaine laid Merlin down on the bed as gently as he could, though he knew it wouldn't make the slightest difference to Merlin.

Face creased in innumerable emotions at once, Gaius sunk down to sit beside the boy who'd been like a son to him. He cradled Merlin's head in his lap. "Oh," he murmured. "Oh, my boy. My dear boy, what did you do this time?"

Eyes glistening with tears, Gaius looked up Gwaine, who was leaning against the wall, looking exhausted and spent. "How?" asked Gaius hoarsely.

Gwaine shook the hair out of his face. "You should let Arthur tell you. I don't really understand." He leaned back against the wall. Gaius, thinking he was done, started to look back at Merlin, but Gwaine abruptly continued. "Did you know he had magic?"

Gaius's head jerked back up. "Who told you?"

"Arthur." Gwaine rested his head against the wall.

"Gwaine, you don't think. . ." Gaius let his voice trail off. If he finished that sentence, some would view it as treason.

Gwaine shook his head. "No, it wasn't Arthur. The man was practically falling apart. After all that-" He said a word that I dare not write down, for fear of burning the page. However, Gaius didn't even blink. "- all that _ about 'No man is worth your tears."

"Where is Arthur?" asked Gaius, who showed no inclination to move from beside Merlin. He did, however move Merlin's shirt to examine the wound. Once a physician, always a physician. Fresh tears pricked his eyes when he saw it. Knife wound, just below the heart. Merlin never had a chance. Even if Gaius had gotten there within seconds, there was still a rather large chance that Merlin wouldn't have made it.

"I left him to walk back to the castle on his own." growled Gwaine. "He'll be here in about half an hour."

Normally, Gaius would have speared Gwaine with one of his looks and scolded him for leaving the future monarch to walk in the cold when Gwaine had a horse. Today, he only nodded.

Gwaine turned to leave, but he seemed to change his mind halfway through, and turned back. "Gaius. . . Why didn't he tell me? About his magic?"

Gaius didn't look away from the empty boy beside him. "Gwaine, it wasn't that he didn't trust you. Don't worry."

Gwaine snorted. "Don't _worry?_ Don't worry! I'm a lot of things right now, but not worried. You know why? Because the one thing I worried about is right there." He gestured at Merlin. "The knights are like family, but they can take care of themselves. Merlin's so selfless that he would sacrifice himself for a person he'd only just met. For Arthur. . . he would do anything."

Gaius tore his eyes away from his surrogate son. "He wanted to tell you, Gwaine. He just thought you'd be safer if you didn't know."

Gwaine shook his head. "Since when have I ever cared about my own safety?"

Gaius met Gwaine's eyes. "He cared about it, Gwaine. He did."

Gwaine opened his mouth, but then thought better of it, and closed it again. He paused, then nodded at Gaius and hurried out, roughly swiping a hand under his eyes.

Gaius turned his attention back to Merlin. He gently brushed Merlin's hair off his forehead. "How could you?" he whispered. "Merlin, how could you? I'm old. How could you die before me?"

* * *

Arthur reached the castle about an hour later. Normally, the walk wouldn't have taken him fifteen minutes, but nothing was normal now. Merlin had magic, and was dead because of Arthur. Gwaine now probably hated him. Gaius wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. He couldn't see Gwen or Morgana forgiving him anytime soon. Hell, he couldn't see himself forgiving him anytime, ever.

Deciding that he really, really didn't want to see anyone, but owed it to Gaius, Arthur snuck in the back of the castle, through an entrance that was meant for servants. He kept to the shadows. He couldn't talk to anyone now.

He walked silently to Gaius's door. He was about to knock- when he heard Gaius talking. He didn't want to interrupt. . . He could see Gaius sitting beside Merlin, shaking his head as he talked, tears sliding slowly down his wrinkled cheeks.

"How could you?" Gaius was saying. "Merlin, how could you? I'm old. How could you die before me? You don't deserve this. There is nothing you could possibly have done to have deserved this It's not fair. Not to you, not to me."

Then Gaius sighed. "There I go again. Since when has either of us had a fair life?" He ran a hand through his hair. "My life was just one calamity after another. One of the only breaks I got was meeting you, my dear boy, although I doubt you could have gotten into more trouble if you'd been trying." He chuckled a bit and shook his head, the forced amusement on his face shifting back to sorrow. "Stabbed, punched, pummeled, poisoned, pelted with fruit. Remember when you listed it for me?" Gaius's voice broke, and Arthur felt like a criminal, listening without permission.

"And now," said Gaius, his voice stronger now. "Arthur, stop hiding behind the door like a child who broke a window and tell me what happened. Exactly what happened. Tell me how my boy died."

**Okay. How was Gaius? I've never written much with him, so I need feedback! Comment! **


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry for not updating sooner! This chapter kind of goes all over the place, with different point of views. It's a bit longer, though, so if that's what you were hoping for, you're welcome. I wasn't sure about this chapter, so you're going to have to comment.**

**Also, I would like to thank MildeAmasoj and TeganL74 for taking two seconds at the end of almost every chapter to review, I really appreciate that.**

"And he said- he said he couldn't, and he was in so much pain I let him go to sleep, and he just. . . he never woke up." finished Arthur.

For the first time since he had started talking, Arthur dared to glance at Gaius. The old man was staring into the hearth, lost in thought, the firelight reflecting off his teary eyes. There was a kind of pain in the old man's face that Arthur had only seen in parents who had lost very small children. Arthur's gut twisted, and the guilt he'd been able to ignore while telling his story returning in a rush.

Finally, slowly, Gaius turned to Arthur and said the absolute last thing Arthur had expected to hear. He murmured, "Thank you."

Arthur looked at him with wide, guilt-filled eyes, and with an effort, Gaius continued. "Thank you for not caring about his magic. I think, far more than death, Merlin was afraid that you would hate him for something he couldn't help. And-" Gaius's voice trembled, almost imperceptibly. "Merlin was determined- destined- to protect you. He wouldn't have wanted to. . . go. . . any other way."

"He shouldn't have had to 'go' at all!" snarled Arthur, with the most energy he'd shown all day. "It's not fair. It's not fair that he died and not me. He should have- He should have let me die, if saving me cost his own life!"

Gaius just looked at him, and Arthur sunk back into his chair. He was quaking with the force of his outburst.

"What do you want me to say to that?" asked Gaius softly. "What am I supposed to say, your highness?"

And caught in Gaius's broken gaze, Arthur felt fully what had happened. Before, his brain had been filtering little bits of information in at a time. That Merlin was gone, Gwaine was mad, Merlin was gone, Gaius was sad.

Now, he remembered what Merlin had told him. "_That's exactly what you do, Arthur. There's nothing else you can do. It's what we all do. We go on living. That's the way it works." _

Arthur had to go on. He had to. But he couldn't help feeling- uselessly-that that was almost selfish.

Then something about Merlin's words hit him. Merlin was talking like someone who had experienced that over and over again. Arthur knew he'd lost a couple friends, but if he'd had magic, a whole secret life, he was bound to have lost even more people than Arthur knew.

"Tell me." said Arthur suddenly.

Gaius had gone back to staring into the fire, but he looked up when Arthur said that. "What?" he asked.

"Tell me about Merlin. Everything." Arthur's voice had taken on a new edge, more determined, less trying-not-to-cry. "I thought I knew him-"

"You did know him, sire." interrupted Gaius.

"But there was so much I didn't know about him." said Arthur. "And unless you tell me, I'm never going to know." He sat forward, the dancing fire reflected in his eyes. "Gaius, please understand. I need to know." He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I need to know what I lost."

Gaius seemed to understand he meant it. And he told him.

* * *

Gwen couldn't believe it, when she heard. That was ridiculous, Merlin couldn't be dead, he was Merlin, for god's sake. Merlin always made it out of everything, no matter what. It was someone's idea of a sick joke, that was all. But the small boy who told her said it seriously. And everybody loved Merlin, no one would joke about that.

She wanted desperately to know the truth, but she was so busy all day that she didn't get a chance to find out. That night, she went down to Gaius's. She was so worried that she didn't notice a dazed Arthur passing her on his way to his rooms.

But as soon as she entered the room, she knew. No words necessary. One look at Gaius's expression, and she knew.

It was cruel indeed, she thought, that she was called to Morgana's side before she could say a proper goodbye to Merlin. But royalty was royalty, and royalty had to be served.

But the first thing Morgana said when Gwen walked in was, "Gwen, is it true? Uther's forbidden me to leave my rooms after that fever I had last week, but someone said Merlin. . .?"

Gwen couldn't speak, she could only nod. And then the tears came. A second later, Morgana was hugging her, and the two girls were crying in each other's arms, royal and servant equaled by the common friend they had lost.

* * *

When Morgana first heard the rumor that Arthur's manservant had died, she carelessly dismissed it as fiction. Everyone knew Merlin was practically impossible to kill- the boy was simply blessed with extraordinary luck.

But as the day passed, Morgana began to doubt her quick dismissal. The guards wouldn't tell her a thing, but looking down into the courtyard was a favorite pastime of hers, and there did seem to be an unusual amount of comforting and crying going on down there. She wasn't worried enough to disobey Uther's orders, but she was distracted all day long.

Finally, that evening, when she couldn't stand it anymore, she called Gwen, the one person she could count on to always tell her the truth. Aside from Merlin.

But she didn't have to say anything, the answer to her question was written all too clearly all over Gwen's face. But she had to find out. Maybe Merlin was just injured.

"Gwen," she asked, hesitantly, "Uther's forbidden me to leave my rooms after that fever I had last week, but someone said Merlin. . .?"

Gwen sniffed. And slowly nodded. And then, despite Gwen's obvious best efforts, she broke down to tears. Morgana didn't think twice about rushing to fold her friend in her arms. And as the implications of Gwen's nod filtered in, Morgana couldn't help herself, she began to cry too.

When Morgana looked back on the day (which she often did while mentally listing all the things the Pendragons had taken from her), she was grateful for one thing. That she had stayed mercifully ignorant of her friend's death as long as she had.

* * *

Leon and Elyan found Gwaine out on the practice field, killing a combat dummy. Both were hesitant to approach, for despite Gwaine's normally easy-going nature, he could get moody, and they had both learned that at those times, it was best to stay out of his way.

However, at this point, they really had to step in. Gwaine was going to hurt someone if he kept practice- fighting like that, or end up hurting himself.

"Gwaine," called Elyan, from a safe distance away. "Gwaine, you should really stop."

Gwaine, being Gwaine, ignored him and kept stabbing the dummy.

Elyan and Leon both sighed, and edged a little closer. "Gwaine," repeated Leon, "Mary from the kitchens has made you a special cake, she won't be pleased if you don't eat it."

Still no response from Gwaine, aside from a particularly violent hack at the dummy, who was starting to look less like a dummy and more like a pile of straw, cloth, and wood.

Elyan lost a bit of patience. "Look, Gwaine," he started, reaching for his friend, "You can't-" And Gwaine spun around. That's when Elyan and Leon realized what they hadn't seen. Gwaine was crying.

Leon said, slightly shocked, "Gwaine? What's- What's happened? What's wrong?"

"Merlin." said Gwaine, in a low voice.

"What about him?" asked Elyan.

Gwaine gritted his teeth. "He's dead."

Elyan and Leon were speechless. Gwaine shot them both a fierce look and went back to chopping up the dummy. This time, they didn't stop him.

**Okay, guys, be honest here, what did you think? Should I keep going, or just leave it there?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Last chapter! I didn't like the ending as much as I thought I would, but I'm too tired to change it. So... enjoy it. Whatever.**

**I just want to say sorry to the actors in the show. Because it must be incredibly, incredibly weird to have people write about you.**

Uther didn't understand. Yes, yes, it was alright to mourn your friend's death, but none of the knights were dead, so why was Arthur so upset?

"Because," replied Arthur, in a rather sharp tone, "Despite what you may believe, Father, I do have friends who aren't knights." _Or I _had _one, anyway. _

Uther stared at him. "Why?" he asked, almost genuinely curious, "Who?"

"Merlin," said Arthur, and when his father still looked blank, he added, "My manservant." Then, in his head, he apologized to Merlin, because Merlin meant much to him than just his servant.

Uther thought for a moment, then clicked his fingers. "Oh, yes, Gaius's boy, the, um, impertinent one. Although I never got the impression you two were particularly close. He always seemed rather rude." He paused. "Is he dead?"

Arthur clenched his teeth, trying not to lose his temper. "Yes." he muttered. It galled him that his father was so nonchalant about a death. A life was a life, after all, and Merlin deserved respect more than anyone.

"Shame." said Uther. He didn't seem to really care one way or another. "If you don't start being more careful on these hunting trips, I won't let you go any more. But you're safe, that's what matters most. The kingdom must come first."

A little bit of Arthur's anger eluded him. "I'm only safe because of him!" he said heatedly, "Merlin saved my life, _again_, as he has been doing since he became my servant."

Uther sat forward. "He saved your life?"

"Er, yes." said Arthur. It had suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't tell his father what actually happened. Even though Arthur was safe, Uther never took kindly to the use of magic. "He, um, he pushed me out of the way of a man about to stab me."

"And got stabbed himself, did he?" said Uther, who probably would've snorted if he hadn't seen Arthur's expression. "Right, that's it, next manservant we get you is going to be trained in fighting."

Arthur lifted his chin. "I don't want another manservant."

Uther stared at him. "Arthur, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous." said Arthur calmly. "I'm not going to have another manservant."

Uther sighed exasperatedly. "Arthur, I don't want you to come back here in two days, asking me to hire someone for you. You need a manservant, you can't do it all on your own."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Watch me." He turned on his heel, and started to march out. But he paused before the door, and gave his father a mocking half bow.

Uther couldn't help but feel that bow was meant to show his father exactly how little control he had over Arthur. And how little Arthur cared about that small bit of control. If Arthur got any worse, he'd be like Morgana.

"Gods save Camelot from moody children." muttered Uther, rather forgetting (as always) that both Arthur and Morgana were in their mid-twenties and perfectly capable of looking after themselves.

* * *

Gwaine found Arthur up in the tower. Arthur was sitting, with his back against the wall, letting the cold wind blow around him and looking at the white-gray sky.

"Hey," said Gwaine, pausing, and then, with a groan, eased himself down to sit beside him.

"Hey," said Arthur, without looking at him. Maybe a greeting, maybe an echo.

"What's on your mind?" asked Gwaine eventually.

Arthur's voice was gravelly. "What do you think?"

It was true, Gwaine's question was really more of a formality than actual curiosity. Arthur knew Gwaine knew what he was thinking about. Mainly because there was only one thing that was ever on Arthur's mind these days.

"I'm sorry." said Gwaine, which was so rare an occurrence, it could almost be classified in the category of miracle. "I'm sorry I was so. . . you know. . . after. . . you know. Merlin."

Arthur dipped his head, though he didn't look away from the sky. "It's okay." He pulled his legs closer to him. "I understand."

"Yeah." There was a lull in the conversation. A comfortable, companionable silence. There wasn't anything to be said.

Arthur finally spoke. "I just- I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact," He took a deep breath. "That he isn't coming back_._"

"I know." said Gwaine. "I keep expecting to see him walking down the hall with your breakfast, but. . ."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah."

There was another silence. The wind began to blow harder. Neither Arthur nor Gwaine made any move to get up or leave.

"He was right, you know." said Gwaine, without explanation.

"About what?"

"Well, no matter how much Merlin insulted you, he never stopped believing you would be a great king." Gwaine nudged Arthur's foot. "He was right."

Arthur sighed deeply, a sound that belonged to a much older man. "Merlin was right about a lot of things." said Arthur, "But not about that. He put far more faith in me than I deserved."

"He didn't, though." said Gwaine seriously. "Don't you think he saw something else in you? I don't think that was blind faith."

Arthur sighed again. "I don't know what he saw, but it's gone, if it were ever here."

"Arthur." For the first time since their conversation started, Gwaine's voice took on a sharper, more Gwaine-like edge. "He believed in you. He trusted you. He sacrificed himself for you because he knew you would be a great king. And because he was your friend, Arthur."

Though Arthur felt slightly sick at how easily the past-tenses rolled from Gwaine's tongue, he did hear the words. "I know, Gwaine, I just. . . I don't see how anyone could see me as a great king."

Gwaine exhaled loudly. "You idiot."

"What?"

"So you're not even going to try. You're going to step down and let Morgana be queen."

"No, of course not." said Arthur indignantly. "She'd be a terrible ruler."

"So you will do it. Just a terrible job." said Gwaine.

"I thought you said I would be good."

"I thought you said you would be terrible." countered Gwaine.

Arthur huffed. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." said Gwaine.

A second passed. "No, I don't." he agreed.

Gwaine sat forward. "Arthur, if you don't believe me, at least try. Try to be who Merlin saw in you. Because Merlin was right a lot more times than we gave him credit for."

Another silence, the longest one yet. The problem with not talking means you have to think. God only knows what was going on in Arthur's head, but his shoulders straightened and he set his jaw.

And then Arthur slowly nodded. "You're right." he said softly. "I'm going to be great." He turned, and for the first time, looked straight at Gwaine, eyes burning with the stubborn will of a king. "I'm going to be great. For Merlin."

**The end! What did you think? Tell me what you liked, so I can use it again. Tell me what you didn't like, so I won't make that mistake again. REVIEW!**


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